Rack & Ruin (THIRDS 3)

Chapter 1

“HE’S GONNA run.”

Dex took his partner’s tech vest from him and handed it to his brother in the BearCat. “You think?” He peered out one of the BearCat’s ballistic windows but couldn’t see jack this time of night, especially since their little friend was well camouflaged among the Central Park greenery. It didn’t help that Hobbs had somehow managed to park their black tactical vehicle in a thicket of trees shrouded in enough darkness to make Dex feel as if a black hole had sucked him up. He had to give his Therian teammate credit. Hobbs could park the BearCat up a freakin’ flagpole if he had to. Maybe being a huge-ass Therian made it easy for him to maneuver huge-ass vehicles. Parks and Recreation was going to be so pissed if they found out they’d been driving off the roads.

“He always runs.” Sloane removed his thigh rig next and handed it over. Dex promptly passed it off to Cael. His brother huffed but took it without question, undoubtedly knowing Dex was doing it to annoy him. Ah, the perks of working with family. Rosa sat on the bench, looking on in amusement and checking her Postshift Trauma Care (PSTC) kit, while Hobbs sat in the driver’s seat inside the front cabin bugging his spiky blond-haired partner. Calvin was in the passenger seat, being a grump as he cleaned the scope of his sniper tranq rifle.

Dex had no idea what had Calvin sporting the pouty face. He wouldn’t be surprised if it had something to do with his best bud sitting across from him. Either Hobbs was oblivious to Calvin’s mood, or he was purposefully ignoring it. Considering he was sitting inches away from the nozzle of his partner’s tranq gun, it would probably be in Hobbs’s best interest to play nice. Dex had walked in on the pair sucking face back at the hospital after Hobbs had been hurt in the Therian Youth Center bombing. It had been one hell of a surprise and explained the pair’s off behavior leading up to the incident. Things quickly returned to normal between the two afterward. Somewhat. If Dex were a betting man, he’d say that was the problem. Hobbs was carrying on as if nothing had happened, and Calvin had been hoping something had changed. He’d confided as much to Dex back at the hospital. Whatever was going on, Dex hoped the two managed to work it out soon.

Letty was checking the magazines of her various guns. And Ash… Dex didn’t know where the hell Ash was. Just another shift for Destructive Delta.

Sloane pulled off his boots, and when he stood to remove his uniform shirt, Dex couldn’t help but try again. “As much as we all love seeing you get nekkid, partner, I wish you’d at least reconsider—”

“Nope.”

“Dude, the rest of your shit is heavy enough,” Dex whined, lifting his arms to show the various pieces of tactical equipment hanging off them, the heaviest being the PSTC kit he carried to aid his partner postshift.

“I’m not getting rid of my sneakers.”

Dex let his arms fall back to his sides. “They’re not even government issued!”

Sloane shrugged. “Don’t care.”

“You’ve had to replace two pairs in the last four months.”

Sloane paused in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt to arch an eyebrow at him. “And whose fault is that?”

“It was an accident.” Dex blinked innocently. The look on Sloane’s face told him his partner wasn’t buying it. Damn it. One would think being the Team Leader’s secret boyfriend at the very least would earn him the right to get away with things others couldn’t. But in Dex’s case, it meant he got away with less because Sloane knew him far better than anyone—with the exception of his family—and loved to burst his bubble.

“As in you accidentally dropped my sneakers off the Brooklyn Bridge?”

Dex did his best to look affronted. “What are you suggesting? It was a windy day.”

“Funny how nothing else got blown away,” Sloane grumbled, pulling off his shirt and tossing it over Dex’s head. He felt like a coatrack. The rest of the team didn’t help at all with their snickering. A loud thunk sounded at his feet, and Dex pulled the shirt off his head to swipe up a boot.

“Size fourteen, man!” Dex waved Sloane’s huge black boot at him. “Somewhere on the Hudson, a duck’s using your sneaker as a flotation device.”

“Ducks already float.”

“Yeah, but their little legs must get tired of moving them about.” Dex wiggled his index and middle fingers to simulate duck feet. His half-naked, sexy-as-sin boyfriend held a hand up to stop any further protest. Dex wished the truck were empty so he could do some of his own pouncing on his jaguar Therian partner.

“Do you mind if I pause this incongruous exchange on water fowl to catch our guy?”

Dex held back a smile. “Ooh, someone’s been playing online Scrabble with Cael again. How many points did incongruous get you?”

When Sloane didn’t reply, Dex turned to his brother.

“Fourteen,” Cael offered cheerfully, earning himself a scowl from Sloane.

Dex shook his head. “Could have gotten twenty on Words With Friends.”

“How—”

Rosa cut Sloane off, motioning to the large console’s surveillance monitor, which had been keeping an eye out for their target via infrared video. “Looks like Sloane’s right. Cabron’s in his Therian form.”

“Striptease is over,” Sloane informed them, hitting the large button on the BearCat’s side panel, causing the screen to drop from the truck’s roof so he could finish undressing and shift in private. Without his favorite peepshow, Dex turned to his brother who was looking somewhat spaced out. It started a few weeks ago, and it was beginning to worry Dex.

“What kind of Therian is our friend?” Dex asked. When his brother didn’t reply, Dex gave him a nudge. “You okay?”